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ECONOMICS
AND AGEING
VOLUME III:
LONG-TERM CARE AND
FINANCE
JOSÉ LUIS
I PA R R A G U I R R E
Economics and Ageing
José Luis Iparraguirre
Economics and Ageing

Volume III: Long-term Care and Finance
José Luis Iparraguirre
Age UK
London, UK
ISBN 978-3-030-29018-4 ISBN 978-3-030-29019-1 (eBook)

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-29019-1
© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive licence to Springer Nature Switzerland AG
2020
This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the Publisher, whether
the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of
illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission
or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar
methodology now known or hereafter developed.
The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication does
not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant protective
laws and regulations and therefore free for general use.
The publisher, the authors, and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book are
believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the editors
give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions
that may have been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps
and institutional affiliations.
Cover illustration: © Darren Nakata / EyeEm
This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature Switzerland AG.
The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland
Contents
Part I Labour Economics and Ageing 1
1 The Older Labour Force 3

1.1 Scope of Labour Economics with Regard to Ageing 3
1.1.1 Alternative Conceptualisations of Work 5
1.1.2 The Three Analytical Perspectives 9
1.1.3 Definition of Older Worker 10
1.2 Labour Demand 11
1.3 Labour Supply 12
1.4 Economic Activity 16
1.5 Substitution and Complementarity Between Younger
and Older Workers 24
1.5.1 The Effect of the Size of the Cohort 25
1.5.2 The Effect of the Business Cycle 27
1.6 Paid Employment in Later Life 29
1.6.1 Pull and Push Factors 29
1.6.2 Labour Force Participation and Health 31
1.6.3 Motivation to Remain in Paid Employment 38
1.6.4 Employment and Pensions 41
1.6.5 Self-employment 42
1.6.6 Number of Hours Worked 44
1.6.7 Underemployment and Overemployment 47
1.6.8 The ‘Lump-of-Labour’ Fallacy 48
v
vi Contents
1.7 Voluntary Work 54

1.7.1 Extent 55
1.7.2 Contribution 56
1.7.3 Theories 59
1.7.4 Reasons and Drivers 62
1.7.5 Intergenerational Transmission 63
1.8 Unemployment 63
1.8.1 Job Search 64
1.8.2 Long-Term Unemployment 67
1.8.3 Scarring Effects of Unemployment 68
1.8.4 Job Search and Re-employment 70
1.9 Economic Inactivity 72
1.10 Retirement 73
1.10.1 Retirement as a Social Institution, a Process,
and an Experience 76
1.10.2 Phases of Retirement 77
1.10.3 The Retirement Decision 81
1.10.4 Early Retirement, Gradual Retirement, Bridge
Employment, and De-retirement 87
1.10.5 Retirement Risk Index 94
References 97
2 Chronological Age and Labour Productivity 127

2.1 Chronological Age and Labour Productivity 133
2.1.1 Chronological Age and Productivity
of Researchers and Artists 134
2.2 Chronological Age and Labour Productivity
in Industry 137
2.2.1 Empirical Evidence of the Age-Productivity
Relationship 138
2.2.2 Productivity Gap and Wage Gap 143
2.2.3 Organisational Factors 144
2.2.4 Psychological Contract 152
2.3 Physical and Cognitive Functioning 154
2.3.1 Work-Related Ability 155
2.3.2 Physical Abilities 158
2.3.3 Cognitive Abilities 159
2.4 Human Capital Obsolescence 162
2.4.1 Workforce Obsolescence 165
Contents vii
2.4.2 Ageing Workforces, Automation, and Artificial

Intelligence 170
2.5 Productivity and Earnings 172
2.5.1 Payment Schemes 173
2.5.2 Job Experience 175
2.5.3 Older Workers’ Earnings 176
References 180
3 Age Discrimination and Stereotypes 199

3.1 Introduction 199
3.2 Categories of Age Stereotypes 203
3.3 The Economics of Discrimination in the Workplace 204
3.3.1 Taste Discrimination 204
3.3.2 Statistical Discrimination 206
3.4 Extent of Age Discrimination in the Workplace 207
3.5 Age Discrimination and Hiring of Older Workers 208
3.6 Organisational and Other Contextual Factors 209
3.6.1 Organisational Structure 209
3.6.2 Age Structure 210
3.6.3 Size 211
3.6.4 Industrial Sector 212
3.6.5 Organisational Climate and Culture 212
3.7 Work-Related Consequences 214
3.8 Physical and Cognitive Consequences 215
References 220
Part II Economics of Pensions 229
4 Pensions and Pension Schemes 231

4.1 Defined Benefit or Defined Contribution 235
4.2 Pay-As-You-Go or Fully Funded 237
4.3 Contributory or Non-contributory 238
4.4 Mandatory or Voluntary 240
4.5 Actuarial or Non-actuarial 240
4.6 Other Characteristics 240
4.6.1 Maturity 242
4.6.2 Replacement Rate 244
4.7 Funding Position 245
viii Contents
4.8 Earnings Measure, Valorisation, and Indexation 245

4.9 Objectives 248
4.10 Pillars and Tiers 250
4.10.1 Point Systems and Notional Accounts 254
4.11 Pension Wealth Accumulation 258
4.11.1 The Samaritan Dilemma 264
4.12 Pensions and Implicit Taxes on Paid Work 264
References 274
5 Macroeconomic Aspects 283

5.1 National Savings 283
5.2 Pension Systems and Economic Growth 287
5.3 The Samuelson-Aaron’s Condition 288
5.4 Public Pensions and Public Budgets 291
5.5 Financial Solvency 293
5.6 From PAYG to Fully Funded Schemes
and the Question of the First Generation 295
5.7 From Fully Funded to PAYG Schemes 298
5.8 Political Economy of Pensions 299
5.9 Taxation of Pension Saving 301
5.10 Public Pensions and Fertility Decisions 305
References 313
6 Distributive and Actuarial Elements 323

6.1 Pensions and Income Redistribution 323
6.1.1 The Progressivity Index 340
6.2 Actuarial Approaches 343
6.2.1 Actuarial Fairness and Neutrality 343
6.2.2 Annuities and Other Financial Products 346
6.2.3 Pension Liabilities 349
References 355
7 Pensions and Risk 365

7.1.1 The Musgrave Rule 370
7.2 Types of Risks 372
7.2.1 Labour Market-Related Risk 374
7.2.2 Macroeconomic Risk 374
Contents ix
7.2.3 Political Risk 375

7.2.4 Investment Risk 377
7.2.5 Longevity Risk 380
7.2.6 Fertility Risk 382
7.2.7 Bankruptcy and Switching Risk 382
7.2.8 Inter-Generational Risk 383
7.2.9 De-risking 385
7.3 Retirement Risk Index 387
References 388
Part III Ageing and Macroeconomics 395
8 Ageing and Economic Growth and Development 397

8.2 Empirical Evidence 400
8.3 Ageing and Theories of Economic Growth 411
8.3.1 Exogenous Neoclassical Growth Models
and Population Ageing 415
8.3.2 Endogenous Neoclassical Growth Models 426
8.4 Ageing and Development 456
8.5 Ageing and Projections of Economic Activity
and Growth 480
8.6 Ageing, Entrepreneurship, and Innovation 488
8.6.1 Introduction 488
8.6.2 Entrepreneurship 490
8.6.3 Innovation 497
References 509
9 Other Macroeconomic Implications of Population Ageing 529

9.1 Ageing, Saving, and Monetary Policy 530
9.2 Ageing, Inflation, and Relative Prices 545
9.2.1 Saving 546
9.2.2 Excess Aggregate Supply 547
9.2.3 Relative Prices 547
9.2.4 Monetary Policy Rules 549
9.2.5 Ageing and the Demand for Money 549
9.2.6 Ageing from Below and from Above 550
9.2.7 Older People’s Consumer Price Indices 551
x Contents
9.3 Ageing, Exchange Rates, and International Trade 555

9.4 Ageing and Financial Assets 564
9.5 Ageing and Macroeconomic Crises 573
References 579
Glossary: Volume III 589
Index 593
List of Figures
Fig. 1.1 United Kingdom, August 2018. (a) Economic activity by age
group and gender. (b) Economic inactivity by reason by age
group and gender. Source: Office for National Statistics 18
Fig. 1.2 Labour force participation rates, 55 or over—the United States.
Source: Federal Reserve Bank of St. Louis 19
Fig. 1.3 Employment rates of older workers and unemployment rates of
younger workers, selected countries. (a) 2000. (b) 2010. Source:
OECD 50
Fig. 1.4 Average retirement age of older workers and unemployment
rates of younger workers, selected countries. (a) 2000. (b) 2010.
Source: OECD 51
Fig. 1.5 Monthly unemployment rates by age group (seasonally adjusted
except for sixty-five or over), United States 2008–2018. Source:
Bureau of Labor Statistics 64
Fig. 2.1 Creative productivity by age. Source: Figure is illustrative,
prepared with mock data based on Simonton (2011, Figure 24.1) 130
Fig. 2.2 Average immediate recall by age, England 2016/2017. Source:
Banks et al. (2018) 160
Fig. 2.3 Immediate recall by age, England 2016/2017. Source: Banks
et al. (2018) 161
Fig. 4.1 Net replacement rates of average earners, selected countries
2011–2017. Source: OECD 246
Fig. 4.2 Public and private pension replacement rates, selected countries
2015. Source: OECD (2017, Table 4.5) 261
xi
xii List of Figures
Fig. 5.1 Old-age dependency ratio and public expenditure on pensions,

2015–2050. (a) Projected public spending on pensions in 2050,
selected countries. Source: OECD (2017, Table 7.5). (Note:
Projection for Australia is for 2055). (b) Projected changes in
old-age dependency ratio and public expenditure on pensions,
2015–2050, selected countries. Source: OECD (2017, Tables 5.5
and 7.5). (Note: Projection for public expenditure in Australia
is for 2055) 292
Fig. 5.2 Public pension reserve funds, Selected countries 2015. Source:
OECD (2017, Table 8.4) 295
Fig. 6.1 Progressivity of pension benefit formulae, selected countries
2005–2013. (a) Progressivity of pension benefit formulae
2005–2009. Source: OECD. (b) Progressivity of pension benefit
formulae 2009–2013. Source: OECD 342
Fig. 6.2 OASDI Annual non-interest income, cost, and balance
2018–2095. Source: Administration (2018, Table VI.G4) 352
Fig. 8.1 Solow–Swan model—steady-state equilibrium. (a) Steady-state
capital per person ratio. (b) Steady-state investment and
consumption. Source: Figure is illustrative, prepared with mock
data 419
Fig. 8.2 Solow–Swan model changes in saving and population growth
rates. (a) Effects of changes in saving rate. (b) Effects of changes
in rate of population growth. Source: Figure is illustrative,
prepared with mock data 421
Fig. 9.1 Quarterly consumer price indices, all-item and one- and
two-pensioner households 1987 Q1–2016 Q4, UK. Source:
Office for National Statistics 553
Fig. 9.2 Quarterly consumer price indices, all-group and pensioner
group June 1998–December 2017, Australia. Source: Australian
Bureau of Statistics 554
List of Tables
Table 1.1 Classification of older workers according to age, paid

employment status, and pension benefit receipt 30
Table 1.2 Methods to measure the economic impact of voluntary work 58
Table 2.1 Effects on older workers’ wages of investment in human
capital and tenure 177
Table 3.1 Common stereotypes of older workers 202
Table 4.1 Fate of older persons in selected societies 232
Table 4.2 Earnings measure, valorisation, and indexation of DB pension
schemes, selected countries 247
Table 4.3 Pension system objectives by type of pension system 253
Table 5.1 Samuelson-Aaron’s condition, The Netherlands 290
Table 5.2 Intergenerational flows in a PAYG pension system 296
Table 6.1 Total pension wealth if retiring in 2010 334
Table 7.1 Effects of increases in total productivity on pension schemes 375
Table 7.2 Effects of an increase in population on alternative pension
schemes 381
Table 8.1 Effects of population ageing in level and growth rate of
economic activity 412
Table 8.2 Economic development theories 471
xiii
Part I
Labour Economics and Ageing
1
The Older Labour Force
Overview
This chapter presents an overview of some of the most important topics arising
from the confluence between labour economics and ageing, and focuses on
the labour market participation of older people. It sets out the scope of labour
economics with respect to individual ageing and alternative views and definition
of ‘older’ workers. The chapter also raises aspects of supply and demand, paid
employment, unemployment, job search and scarring effects, voluntary work,
and inactivity—including a focus on retirement.
1.1 Scope of Labour Economics with Regard

to Ageing
Textbooks define labour economics with various degrees of precision. From
the study of ‘how labor markets work’ (Borjas 2013, p. 1) and ‘the study of the
markets in which labor services are exchanged for wages’ (Cahuc et al. 2014,
p. xxiii) to the study of ‘the organization, functioning, and outcomes of labor
markets; the decisions of prospective and present labor market participants;
and the public policies relating to the employment and payment of labor
resources’ (McConnell et al. 2015, p. 1).1
The definition by McConnell, Brue, and Macpherson touches upon many
key aspects of labour economics, but I would like to complement it with the
following definition from Ehrenberg and Smith (2012, p. 3): labour economics
is the study of
© The Author(s) 2020 3

J. L. Iparraguirre, Economics and Ageing, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-29019-1_1
4 J. L. Iparraguirre
the behavior of employers and employees in response to the general incentives of

wages, prices, profits, and nonpecuniary aspects of the employment relationship,
such as working conditions.
Ehrenberg and Smith brings non-pecuniary elements to the fore, which

grow in importance along workers’ life courses. However, labour is still
basically thought of as a transaction in which the worker supplies her time and
skills in exchange of money. One of ‘the decisions of prospective and present
labour market participants’ is the decision to cease paid employment. Needless
to say, this is a decision looming large on the minds of older workers, so it
should become part of labour economics in its relationship with ageing.
There is one additional element that the definitions above, as well as much
of the academic literature on the economics of labour, leave out, which also
grows in importance in later life: volunteering, that is engaging in voluntary
work.
Now we have all the main elements needed in a study of labour economics
and individual and population ageing: paid employment—including its pecu-
niary and non-pecuniary aspects—the decision to cease paid work (though
not necessarily to cease working), and unpaid employment. Therefore, labour
in later life should be not only about paid employment but about what
Herzog et al. (1989, p. S130) called ‘productive ageing’: ‘any activity by an
older individual who produces goods or services, whether paid or not, or
develops the capacity to produce them’. These authors argued that treating
paid employment as the only productive activity reflects either expediency
or ‘unwillingness or inability to measure more directly the characteristic
of interest’ [p. S129] and added that to call paid, but not unpaid, work
‘productive’ is ‘unwarranted’.
This enlarged view incorporates the study of unpaid work within the realm
of labour economics. After all, unpaid or not, it is work, isn’t it? Well, yes
and no. In an anthropological sense, it is. In a wider economic sense, it is
too. However, the narrow official definition of work treats a job a job only
if it is remunerated: a home-maker, for example, is officially classified as
economically ‘inactive’, even though home-makers are usually occupied in a
long list of activities in exchange of which many an economic agent gets a
remuneration: budgeting, cleaning and washing, cooking, caring, and so on.
Home-makers are officially inactive because they are not paid for looking after
their homes. Large numbers of older people are equally engaged in unpaid
occupations, providing services not in exchange of a remuneration. To fix the
idea, let’s consider the case of older voluntary drivers who take patients to
hospitals, dentists, doctors, and so on. These volunteer drivers provide the
same patient transport services as paid drivers and are subject to the same
entry requirements and regulations. The principal difference is that volunteer
drivers do not earn a salary and are only paid an allowance for using their
own vehicle. Paid drivers are officially employed; volunteer drivers are officially
inactive. Rather than excluding these activities, the study of the economics of
labour should be expanded to incorporate the decision to work in either paid
or unpaid jobs.
The rationale, then, for expanding the reach of labour economics is based
on the economic impact of unpaid activities (which was presented in Volume
II, Chap. 6, in connection with caregiving). There is an additional reason
for adopting this approach: the meaning of work for older people. Using
structured interviews with people aged sixty or over, Knight et al. (2007)
reported that respondents saw the following five roles as work: home-maker,
volunteer, carer, paid employee, and student.
1.1.1 Alternative Conceptualisations of Work
As we will see below, most economic models of household consumption and

production, as well as most models of labour supply include at least the
following two variables: consumption and leisure. Both variables are assumed
to have a positive association with an individual’s utility or satisfaction: higher
levels of consumption and longer leisure time would increase utility, albeit, at
a diminishing rate.
Leisure is inversely associated with labour supply and therefore production:
of course, a longer leisurely time means a shorter time that can be allocated
to labour and other productive activities.2 Higher labour supply means higher
income, higher income leads to higher consumption, and higher consumption
translates into higher utility. However, higher labour supply means shorter
leisure time, which reduces utility. That extra hour in bed feels really good,
but the extra money in the pocket is not bad either: leisure and labour pull in
opposite directions. So, how much time does each individual allocate to leisure
and labour? The short answer is, er, the proverbial economist’s one: it depends.
But economics can also provide a longer answer: an economic agent’s allocation
of time between labour and leisure depends on her relative preference for one
or the other activity, measured by her marginal rate of substitution between
labour and leisure. Workaholics have a very large marginal rate of substitution
of labour for leisure: the leisure alternative has to be really good for them to
give up their precious labour time. In contrast, sloths (the arboreal mammals
florivora, I mean) must have very, very low rates of substitution of labour for
leisure!
As the opposite to leisure, and therefore considering it as a direct source of

dis-utility, on the one hand, but as an indirect source of utility through the
consumption made possible by the remuneration it is exchanged for, on the
other, is not the only manner in which labour has been approached. It has also
been conceptualised as a curse and a torture, and as a source of alienation.
Considering labour as a curse is reminiscent of the Old Testament narrative
of the garden of Eden. The association between labour and torture finds
its origin in Greco-Roman mythology and is reflected in several European
languages. A tripalium was an instrument of torture used in the early Middle
Ages. Although contested among linguists and etymologists, this is the root of
words such as trabajo, travail, travaglio, trabalho, trebail, and treball, which—
respectively—in Spanish, French, Italian, Portuguese, Galician, and Catalan
mean labour. In English and the Romance languages, labour has a connotation
of toil, pain, and suffering (as in parturition). Labour is, etymologically at least,
either sheer torture or a painful activity.
Karl Marx saw labour under capitalism as a source of alienation.3 To merely
sketch out the idea, as a more in-depth discussion would deviate us from
our main concern, Marx proposed that human beings are meant by nature
to identify with their labour, that labour is the essence of being human, and
that humankind in general is manifested in the fruit of labour. However,
under capitalism, the division of labour and the separation between labour
and capital, resulting in the co-modification of the former, have altered this
intrinsic relationship between the worker and her labour supply, leading to
alienation. In Marx’s words:
…within the capitalist system …all means for the development of production
undergo a dialectical inversion so that they become means of domination and
exploitation of the producers; they distort the worker into a fragment of man,
they degrade him to the level of an appendage of a machine, they destroy the
actual content of his labour by turning it into a torment; they alienate …from
him the intellectual potentialities of the labour process in the same proportion as
science is incorporated in it as an independent power; they deform the conditions
under which he works, subject him during the labour process to a despotism the
more hateful for its meanness; they transform his life-time into working-time,
and drag his wife and child beneath the wheels of the juggernaut of capital.
(Marx 1990, p. 799)
Unlike labour, the word ‘work’ has a more prosaic etymological pedigree,
coming from the Indo-European root werg, which simply means to do—several
words in the English language descend from its Greek derivative, ergon—
ε̃ργ oν, which have a relation to activity: energy, lethargy, synergy, and so
on; even the word surgeon shares the root, as physicians who ‘work with their
hands’.
Beyond their different etymological origins, work sometimes shares with
labour the negative connotations mentioned above. However, work is also
simply considered either as a functional activity (i.e. a means of earning a
living) or a source of value.
If we consider work as a means of earning a living, we revert to the ‘a job is
a job is a job if it is remunerated’ notion and to the centrality of the pecuniary
element in the decision to work. However, a large body of research confirms
that not only do other motivations play a part in the decision to supply labour
services in exchange of a remuneration, but that non-pecuniary factors are
more important in relative terms as well (Morse and Weiss 1955).
Work interpreted as a source of value was the original view of classical
economists. They considered that the value of goods and services is determined
by their production costs, which depend on the costs of inputs, including
raw materials and capital. From a macro perspective, the cost of each raw
material and capital good also depends on the inputs, materials, and capital
utilised to produce them. Therefore, the value of all goods and services can be
traced back to the costs of the factors used in their production. These costs,
in turn, are equivalent to the remuneration or income that the owner of each
factor earns. However, any tools and raw materials require labour to produce,
extract, harvest, and so on. Consequently, classical economists (e.g. not only
Karl Marx, but also Adam Smith and David Ricardo) thought that ultimately
the value of any good and service corresponds to the value of the amount
of labour it takes, directly and indirectly, to produce it. The neo-classical
revolution overthrew this approach and replaced it with the marginal theory
of value, first proposed by Hermann Gossen and William Stanley Jevons, in
which labour lost its prominence and was replaced by demand considerations.
In a more positive way, work has also been conceptualised as4 :
• freedom
• a commodity
• occupational citizenship
• a source of personal fulfilment and self-realisation
• a social relation
• a means of caring for others
• a source of personal identity
• service
All these disparate and sometimes conflicting conceptualisations are present

in the research and policy discussions of older workers and of labour economics
and ageing in general.
Pension income and health issues tend to be more relevant to older workers
than to their younger counterparts, so their inter-relationship is a key topic
of labour economics and ageing. For example, Saint-Paul (2009) studied
to which extent the generosity of pension systems and other welfare-state
regimes entices people to withdraw from the labour force, whereas Kalwij and
Vermeulen (2008) looked into how poor health status precipitates retirement.
However, retirement is but one option available to older workers—and for
many older people, it is hardly an option. Part II in this volume covers the
topic of retirement; here I want to underline that retirement, as our expended
definition of labour makes clear, is not necessarily a work-free stage in the life
course. This busyness and activity is not a sign of a time marked by social
acceleration (Rosa 2013) and in which doing is of a paramount value (Katz
2000). In the Inca empire, according to Simmons (1945, p. 86), older people
who were unfit for work were obliged by law to serve as scarecrows to frighten
birds and rodents from the fields. One way or the other (and what a way!), they
had to remain productive. Thankfully, in most contemporary societies, older
people are being spared such a plight, although in some poorer countries some
of its modern-day equivalent forms (e.g. slavery5) confine older (and younger)
workers to not much better conditions.
For many older people, retirement has become one of the busiest stages of
the life course (Ekerdt 1986; Katz 2000; Lamb 2017; Pannor Silver 2018) as a
result of a combination of
• the normative contents of the active, positive, and successful ageing policy
initiatives;
• the retrenchment of publicly funded pension systems; and
• the cultural and social pressure to ‘do’ as the paramount expression of an
individual’s contribution to society and, therefore, deservedness.
Not all the productive activities that retirees are engaged in necessarily
correspond to remunerated ‘busyness’, but they are no less productive or of
economic importance anyway. Reflecting, for example, on the sizeable amount
of voluntary work carried out by older people and the substantial untapped
potential of unpaid work, Freedman (1997, p. 249) went as far as to state that
older people in retirement and not impaired by sickness or disability constitute
‘the only increasing natural resource’….
In tension with lifestyle and consumption, work is a defining element of

the core of personal identity in contemporary developed societies (and it
is second only to family in terms of importance as a social role (Meaning
of Work International Research Team 1987)). Familiar questions posed to
children, such as ‘what would you like to be when you grow up?’, or everyday
opening gambits in social interactions among adults such as ‘what do you
do?’ point to the centrality of work in the meaning of contemporary life
(Christiansen 1999; Howie et al. 2004; Unruh 2004; Akabas and Gates
2006). As an individual gets older, the paid-work-based component of her
personal identity is challenged and even threatened—especially its continuity
in proximity to retirement (Claude 2000; Jonsson et al. 2001; Pepin and
Deutscher 2011; Tatzer et al. 2012; Eraly 2013). Moreover, the prospect
of identity mutation following retirement is one of the influences behind
the timing of the retirement decision (to either anticipate or postpone it)
(Brougham and Walsh 2009; Hewitt et al. 2010; Vough et al. 2015; Onyura
et al. 2015). The management of personal identity in retirement is also a driver
behind the decision to engage in, and the choice of, leisure activities in later life
(Dionigi 2002, 2006; Son et al. 2009), which led Phillipson and Biggs (1998)
to recommend that identity should be given a more prominent role in research
on later life to ‘close what seems to be alarming and somewhat alienating gap:
the disjunction between ourselves as we age from within, and our self as it ages
within society’ [p. 22].
1.1.2 The Three Analytical Perspectives
In Volume I, Chap. 4, I mentioned that social gerontology adopts three

perspectives—the macro, meso and micro levels—of analysis and recom-
mended that they should be applied concomitantly in studies of economics
and ageing. From a macro perspective, the focus is on regional, national, and
international forces. The meso level looks into organisational and policy issues.
Micro analyses deal with individual aspects. This is crucial in relation to labour.
Ageing is a relevant element in each perspective: population ageing appears
in the macro perspective, organisational determinants, and characteristics are
the focus at the meso level, and elements linked to the process of individual
ageing are included in micro studies.
Distinguishing between these three levels is convenient for many research
and policy purposes, but it is essential neither to think of them as analytical
silos nor to consider the meso and macro levels simply the aggregation of
micro-level data (a mistake known as the compositional fallacy). In fact,
far from being watertight compartments, there is much inter-relationship

between each level. To illustrate, organisational structure and policies (meso-
level variables) directly impinge on individual productivity (micro); labour
productivity, in turn, has an impact on a firm’s productivity or innovation
success (meso) and effects economic growth and labour demand (macro), and
so on.
1.1.3 Definition of Older Worker
I have referred to older workers but did not specify at which chronological age
a worker becomes ‘older’. In fact, the definition of an older worker is rather
elusive—and, not surprisingly, the use of a chronological delimiter has been
widely criticised in the gerontological literature (see also Chap. 1, in Volume I).
Nevertheless, some scholars, as well as many policy documents and reports, set
the watershed at fifty or fifty-five years of age.
To complicate matters, sometimes what is sauce for the goose in one policy
area is not sauce for the gander elsewhere in the policy-making realm. For
example, in the United States, the Age Discrimination in Employment Act
of 1967 (Pub. L. 90-202) (ADEA) protects workers aged forty or over. That
is a fairly low chronological age bar to define a worker as ‘older’, you may
think. As it happens, so does the US Department of Labor, which established
the minimum eligibility age for the Senior Community Service Employment
Program (a work-based job training programme for unemployed or low-
income older workers) at fifty-five years of age. Furthermore, some academic
researchers on age discrimination against ‘older’ workers have set a minimum
age of forty years (McGregor 2007) and even the late 30s (Albert et al. 2011)
to define the population under study.
With regard to the population of older workers, not only is the minimum
threshold important, but so is the setting of a maximum age. There has also
been inconsistency in the definition of a maximum cut-off point. Usually, it
is the chronological age at which individuals are eligible for full retirement
income (i.e. full pensionable age), so if pensionable age is, say, sixty-seven
years, then older workers are workers between fifty (or fifty-five, etc.) and
sixty-seven years of age. Some researchers, instead, prefer to extend the upper
limit to encompass or focus on paid work after retirement age. In some studies
still, there is no upper limit, which means that even centenarians are part
of the population under study, a subpopulation with only a few instances of
economically active individuals.6
Beyond the official classifications and even the type of benefits that workers
not in paid employment are entitled to receive, how older workers define or see
themselves is also relevant and has policy implications: in their study of older
men below state pension age not in paid employment in Britain between 1979
and 1986, Casey and Laczko (1989) reported that only a minority considered
themselves early retired or unemployed. These authors proposed that these
workers conformed an indeterminate social group of ‘pre-retired’ individuals,
more akin to the long-term unemployed, concluding (Casey and Laczko
1989)[p. 523]:
By thinking of older non-workers as long-term unemployed rather than as early

retired, we are better reminded of the circumstances which gave rise to their
presence as a new and quantitatively significant social group.
As any other market, the labour market has a demand and a supply. How-
ever, it is not that workers are exchanged in these markets (other than in vari-
eties of unfree labour such as slavery), but rather their services are. This marks
the labour market out of most other markets, for the products exchanged—
labour services—are embedded in the workers. In common parlance, a person
‘looks for’ work and a firm’s investment ‘creates’ work opportunities in a town.
However, the services provided by workers make up the supply side of the
market, not the demand. So, workers do not ‘look for’ work in the same sense
as consumers look for chocolate bars: they look for opportunities to supply
their services, like the confectionery factories that manufacture, and the shops
that sell, chocolate bars look for customers. Equally, then, employers do not
create work as if they produced or supplied it, but demand it.
1.2 Labour Demand

Firms demand labour and other factors of production. Let’s assume there are
only two factors, labour (L) and capital (K); a production function can be
expressed as:
q = f (L, K) (1.1)
where q denotes output.

Labour can be expressed in terms of number of workers or number of hours
worked. To simplify, let’s assume it is the latter and the hourly wage is, as
above, denoted by w. This wage rate is the cost for the firm of hiring one hour
of labour services. For using the other factor, capital, the firm also incurs into
a cost, the interest rate r. The product that the firm produces is sold at price
p. Therefore, the profit (denoted by π ) can be expressed as:
π = p · q − w · L − r · K = p · f (L, K) − w · L − r · K (1.2)
Regarding the amount of labour the firm hires, the profit is maximised when
∂f (L, K)
p· =w (1.3)
∂L
That is, when the marginal product of labour equals the wage rate. Similarly
for capital, the optimal amount of capital goods to be allocated to the
production effort is found when the marginal product of capital equates with
the interest rate.
This framework can be expanded by assuming that the marginal product of
labour depends not only on the number of hours worked but also on the effort
the worker puts in. The number of hours worked multiplied by a work effort
factor (e) is known as effective labour, a concept (let’s denote it by E) that
is used in most theoretical models of labour supply. The production function
becomes:
q = f (L · e, K) = f (E, K) (1.4)
1.3 Labour Supply

As mentioned, in its basic form, the supply of labour is modelled as a matter of
preferences between consumption and leisure. Individuals derive utility from
consumption and leisure, but in order to consume, they must supply their
labour services: the time devoted to earning-generating activities reduces the
time devoted to leisure. The total number of hours available, T , can be devoted
to paid employment (h) or leisure (l). Each individual faces the decision about
how many hours to devote to each activity in order to maximise her utility. In
fact, regarding their supply of labour, workers have to make two decisions:
first, they have to choose between working or not, and if they decide to work,
for how many hours. The decision regarding working at all is known as the
extensive margin; the decision regarding the number of hours worked is known
as the intensive margin. The extensive margin is a choice about participation
in the labour market.
To simplify the exposition, let’s assume there is only one consumption

good in the economy whose price is set equal to 1, and let’s also think about
labour supply in terms of hours per week. Individuals face two restrictions:
the number of available hours (no one of us is endowed with more than 24
hours a day, i.e. 168 hours per week!) and the hourly wage, which is assumed to
be exogenous. Not only does the hourly wage reflect the remuneration earned
for each hour devoted to work, but also the opportunity cost of each hour
not devoted to work—that is, the cost of leisure. In addition to paid work,
the individual can earn income from other sources: non-labour income, for
example, from assets. Moreover, in addition to leisure, the individual can spend
time doing unpaid work. Unpaid productive activities are taken to be akin to
non-work income: we denote both as V . Why are unpaid work and non-work
income assumed to be one and the same? Income from other sources than work
represents the level of consumption attainable if the individual is not engaged
in paid employment (i.e. h = 0). Voluntary work requires time, which is
assumed to compete with the time that could be allocated to paid work, not to
leisure. The restrictions of time and hourly wage define the budget constraint
of each individual:
C =w·h+V (1.5)
where C is consumption and w denotes the hourly wage.

The utility function is:
U = U (C, l) = U (C, h) (1.6)
In the utility equation (1.6), we assume that the partial derivatives with
respect to consumption and leisure are positive: more units consumed or more
leisurely time increase utility. Given that total time can be divided into leisure
or work, we can also express the utility function in terms of the number of
hours devoted to paid employment (i.e. h). In this case, the partial derivative
of utility with respect to hours worked is negative (remember that work in itself
is assumed to cause a dis-utility, although it also indirectly increases utility via
the consumption it makes possible).
Each individual is assumed to maximise her utility function (Eq. (1.6)),
subject to her budget constraints (Eq. (1.5)). The Lagrangian7 for this opti-
misation problem is:
L = U (C, h) + λ · [C − w · h − V ] (1.7)
The first-order conditions for a maximum are:

∂U
−w·λ=0
∂h
(1.8)
∂U
+λ=0
∂C
That is,
Uh
w=− (1.9)
UC
The optimal point at which utility is maximised is found where the marginal
utility derived from an additional unit spent on consumption goods equals the
marginal utility derived from an additional hour of leisure measured by the
hourly wage; in other words, where the hourly wage equals the marginal rate
of substitution between leisure and consumption.
As mentioned, the hourly wage is the cost of leisure. Equation (1.9) there-
fore expresses that the cost of leisure equals the marginal rate of substitution
between labour and consumption. Remember that labour and consumption
pull utility in opposite directions. Hence, this marginal rate of substitution
can be thought of as the marginal utility cost of each hour of labour; the
Eq. (1.9) says that the optimal number of hours allocated to labour is found
where the marginal utility cost of each hour of labour equals the hourly
wage.
Equation (1.8) or (1.9) indicates the optimal decision regarding the inten-
sive margin—that is, the optimal number of hours allocated to paid employ-
ment. The extensive margin is a binary decision, which can be understood in
terms of a minimum wage level, known as a reservation wage, below which
the individual does not supply her labour services. The reservation wage
(let’s denote it as w∗ ) is the wage level in Eq. (1.9), resulting from setting
h = 0. It follows that higher non-paid income increases the reservation
wage: individuals can afford to ask for a higher wage and not to accept a job
otherwise.
Using the definition of elasticity presented in Volume I, Chap. 8, we can
estimate the participation elasticity with respect to wages (i.e. the extensive
margin) and the elasticity of working hours supplied with respect to wages
(i.e. the intensive margin).
The participation elasticity (εP , where P stands for participation in the
labour market) is defined as the change in the probability of supplying
labour services resulting from a percentage change in the wage level above the
reservation wage:
∂P r(h > 0) w ∂P r(w > w∗ ) w

ε =
P
· = · (1.10)
∂w P ∂w P
The parameter εP is always positive: an increase in wages above the

reservation level increases labour market participation.
The elasticity that measures the intensive margin decision corresponds to
the percentage change in hours of labour supplied as a result of a percentage
change in wages. The literature distinguishes between two types of elasticity:
uncompensated and compensated. The uncompensated elasticity of labour
supply is the percentage change in the hours worked when the hourly wage
increases by one unit. It can be expressed as:
w ∂h
εun = · (1.11)
h ∂w
or, applying logarithms:
∂ log(h)
εun = (1.12)
∂ log(w)
This elasticity parameter can be positive or negative. As with any elasticity,

there is an income effect pulling in one direction and a substitution effect
pulling in the opposite direction. In this case, an additional hour worked
means higher income, higher consumption, and higher utility. But it also
means an hour less available to be spent in leisurely activities, which reduces
utility. If the income effect dominates, higher wages will cause an increase
in the number of hours worked: the quantity of hours of labour supplied
increases with the level of hourly wage. If the substitution effect dominates,
εun < 0, and the economic agent reduces her labour supply with an increase in
wages. The compensated elasticity abstracts from the income effect: imagine
the individual is compensated for the negative effect on her utility caused by
the loss in leisure, the compensated elasticity of labour reflects the percentage
change in labour supply under these circumstances. This parameter is always
positive:
w ∂h
εc = · (1.13)
h ∂w
Or,
∂ log(hc )
εc = (1.14)
∂ log(w)
where hc reflects the compensation.

We can consider the labour supply as a decision taken between the adult
members of a family unit or household. In this case, the utility function
depends on the joint level of consumption and the preferences for leisure of
each member.
Another extension is the lifetime labour supply, where the inter-temporal
budget constraint is estimated as the present value of consumption and leisure
over the life cycle (LC). The usual assumption is that the utility in each period
is separable from that of any other period, so we get the same optimisation
condition (Eq. (1.9)) in each period.
This dynamic framework can be further extended by the introduction
of uncertainty over, for example, future labour income (see Blundell and
MaCurdy 1999).
1.4 Economic Activity

The labour force is composed of all individuals of and above the minimum
legal working age, which in most countries is set at sixteen years of age.8
Remember that both in official statistics and in common use, labour is
restricted to remunerated work. Consequently, the economically active are all
the agents of working age who are in either paid employment or unemployed.
The ratio between the number of economically active individuals and the
size of the population of working age is the labour force participation rate.
People in paid employment and the unemployed make up the labour supply:
the former are, obviously, supplying their labour services; to be classified as
unemployed, a person must be actively seeking to offer her services for a price.
Agents seeking a voluntary job are not classified as active—they may be actively
seeking a voluntary position, but in official statistics, they are not seen this way!
Economic activity rates vary with chronological age and gender. Moreover,
the size and composition of the labour force varies according to cultural,
economic, and institutional determinants. Figure 1.4a illustrates this with the
composition of the labour force in the UK by age group and economic activity
in August 2018. The employment rate in each age group (i.e. the ratio of
people in paid employment and total population in that age group) grows from
around 25 per cent among teenagers to near 80 per cent (for women) and 90
per cent (for men) aged 25–34. There is a notable drop in paid employment
after sixty-five years of age. Overall, inactivity follows a U-shaped pattern
across age groups, being much higher among women aged 18–64 than men.
However, as Fig. 1.4b shows for the same country and period, there are marked
differences by gender and reason of inactivity. The main difference by gender is
the greater proportion of women who, since their mid-twenties, are out of the
labour force looking after family or home compared to men. Inactivity by age
group in terms of pursuing studies is concentrated, as expected, early in the life
course, whilst retirement is mainly present at older ages. Sickness and disability
grows with chronological age until state pension age, when retirement takes
over as the main reason for economic inactivity (Fig. 1.1).
In developing countries, macro studies suggest that there is a negative
association between the level of economic development and the labour force
participation of older workers, especially men (Clark et al. 1999). More
detailed country-specific studies show that employment of older workers
in rural areas has remained at high levels over the past decades, and that
workers from lower socio-economic backgrounds are more likely to stay in
paid employment until later in life than those on higher incomes (see, among
others, Reddy (2016) for India; Chou (2010), Giles et al. (2011), and Pang et al.
(2004) for China; and Barrientos (2011) for Argentina).
The historical trends in labour force participation of older workers in
developed countries show primordially one stylised fact: the reduction in older
male employment rates until around the mid-1990s followed by a sustained
increase ever since (Maestas and Zissimopoulos 2010; Anxo et al. 2012). In
the United States, around 78 per cent of all men aged sixty-five or over were
in paid work in 1880; by 1990, participation rates among this age group had
fallen below 20 per cent (Moen 1994; Costa 1998) and bounced back since
then to around 24 per cent (for men) in 2015 (Hipple 2016). Similarly the
labour force participation rate of people aged fifty-five or over in the United
States descended from 43 per cent in 1948 to 29 per cent in 1993, to pick up
to around 40 per cent since 2010 (see Fig. 1.2).
Considering this evolution, Ekerdt opined:
The trend toward early retirement is history. People claim to want to work longer,
they are advised (if only for financial reasons) to work longer, policy directions
point toward working longer, and population structure suggests a workforce that
may need to retain older workers. And people actually are working longer.
(Ekerdt 2010, p. 73)
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antennae they are thickly set side by side on the rings of skin which give such an Arthropodan
appearance to these organs in Peripatus.
The Tracheal System.
The apertures of the tracheal system are placed in the depressions between the papillae or ridges
of the skin. Each of them leads into a tube, which may be called the tracheal pit (Fig. 10), the walls
of which are formed of epithelial cells bounded towards the lumen of the pit by a very delicate
cuticular membrane continuous with the cuticle covering the surface of the body. The pits vary
somewhat in depth; the pit figured was about 0.09 mm. It perforates the dermis and terminates in
the subjacent muscular layer.
Internally it expands in the transverse plane and from the expanded portion the tracheal tubes
arise in diverging bundles. Nuclei similar in character to those in the walls of the tracheal pit are
placed between the tracheae, and similar but slightly more elongated nuclei are found along the
bundles. The tracheae are minute tubes exhibiting a faint transverse striation which is probably the
indication of a spiral fibre. They appear to branch, but only exceptionally. The tracheal apertures
are diffused over the surface of the body, but are especially developed in certain regions.
Fig. 10.—Section through a tracheal pit and diverging bundles of tracheal tubes taken transversely
to the long axis of the body. (After Balfour.) tr, Tracheae, showing rudimentary spiral fibre; tr.c,
cells resembling those lining the tracheal pits, which occur at intervals along the course of the
tracheae; tr.o, tracheal stigma; tr.p, tracheal pit.
The Muscular System.
The general muscular system consists of—(1) the general wall of the body; (2) the muscles
connected with the mouth, pharynx, and jaws; (3) the muscles of the feet; (4) the muscles of the
alimentary tract.
The muscular wall of the body is formed of—(1) an external layer of circular fibres; (2) an internal
layer of longitudinal muscles.
The main muscles of the body are unstriated and divided into fibres, each invested by a delicate
membrane. The muscles of the jaws alone are transversely striated.
The Vascular System.
The vascular system consists of a dorsal tubular heart with paired ostia leading into it from the
pericardium, of the pericardium, and the various other divisions of the perivisceral cavity (Fig. 14,
D). As in all Arthropoda, the perivisceral cavity is a haemocoele; i.e. it contains blood and forms
part of the vascular system. The heart extends from close to the hind end of the body to the head.
The Body Cavity.
The body cavity is formed of four compartments—one central, two lateral, and a pericardial (Fig.
14, D). The former is by far the largest, and contains the alimentary tract, the generative organs,
and the slime glands. It is lined by a delicate endothelial layer, and is not divided into
compartments nor traversed by muscular fibres. The lateral divisions are much smaller than the
central, and are shut off from it by the inner transverse band of muscles. They are almost entirely
filled with the nerve-cord and salivary gland in front and with the nerve-cord alone behind, and
their lumen is broken up by muscular bands. They further contain the nephridia. They are
prolonged into the feet, as is the embryonic body cavity of most Arthropoda. The pericardium
contains a peculiar cellular tissue, probably, as suggested by Moseley, equivalent to the fat-bodies
of insects.
Nephridia.
In Peripatus capensis nephridia are present in all the legs. In all of them (except the first three) the
following parts may be recognised (Fig. 11):—
(1) A vesicular portion opening to the exterior on the ventral surface of the legs by a narrow
passage.
(2) A coiled portion, which is again subdivided into several sections.
(3) A section with closely packed nuclei ending by a somewhat enlarged opening.
(4) The terminal portion, which consists of a thin-walled vesicle.
The last twelve pairs of these organs are all constructed in a very similar manner, while the two
pairs situated in the fourth and fifth pairs of legs are considerably larger than those behind, and
are in some respects very differently constituted.
It will be convenient to commence with one of the hinder nephridia. Such a nephridium from the
ninth pair of legs is represented in Fig. 11. The external opening is placed at the outer end of a
transverse groove at the base of one of the legs, while the main portion of the organ lies in the
body cavity in the base of the leg, and extends into the trunk to about the level of the outer edge of
the nerve-cord of its side. The external opening (o.s) leads into a narrow tube (s.d), which
gradually dilates into a large sac (s). The narrow part is lined by small epithelial cells, which are
directly continuous with and perfectly similar to those of the epidermis. The sac itself, which forms
a kind of bladder or collecting vesicle for the organ, is provided with an extremely thin wall, lined
with very large flattened cells. The second section of the nephridium is formed by the coiled tube,
the epithelial lining of which varies slightly in the different parts. The third section (s.o.t),
constitutes the most distinct portion of the whole organ. Its walls are formed of columnar cells
almost filled by oval nuclei, which absorb colouring matters with very great avidity, and thus render
this part extremely conspicuous. The nuclei are arranged in several rows. It ends by opening into
a vesicle (Fig. 14, D), the wall of which is so delicate that it is destroyed when the nephridium is
removed from the body, and consequently is not shown in Fig. 11.
Fig. 11.—Nephridium from the 9th pair of legs of P. capensis. o.s, External opening of segmental
organ; p.f, internal opening of nephridium into the body cavity (lateral compartment); s, vesicle
of segmental organ; s.c.1, s.c.2, s.c.3, s.c.4, successive regions of coiled portion of
nephridium; s.o.t, third portion of nephridium broken off at p.f from the internal vesicle, which is
not shown.
The fourth and fifth pairs are very considerably larger than those behind, and are in other respects
peculiar. The great mass of each organ is placed behind the leg on which the external opening is
placed, immediately outside one of the lateral nerve-cords. The external opening, instead of being
placed near the base of the leg, is placed on the ventral side of the third ring (counting from the
outer end) of the thicker portion of the leg. It leads into a portion which clearly corresponds with
the collecting vesicle of the hinder nephridia. This part is not, however, dilated into a vesicle. The
three pairs of nephridia in the three foremost pairs of legs are rudimentary, consisting solely of a
vesicle and duct. The salivary glands are the modified nephridia of the segment of the oral
papillae.
Generative Organs.
Male.—The male organs (Fig. 12) consist of a pair of testes (te), a pair of vesicles (v), vasa
deferentia (v.d), and accessory glandular tubules (f). All the above parts lie in the central
compartment of the body cavity. In P. capensis the accessory glandular bodies or crural glands of
the last (17th) pair of legs are enlarged and prolonged into an elongated tube placed in the lateral
compartment of the body cavity (a.g).
Fig. 12.—Male generative organs of Peripatus capensis, viewed from the dorsal surface. (After
Balfour.) a.g, Enlarged crural glands of last pair of legs; F.16, 17, last pairs of legs; f, small
accessory glandular tubes; p, common duct into which the vasa deferentia open; te, testis; v,
seminal vesicle; v.c, nerve-cord; v.d, vas deferens.
The right vas deferens passes under both nerve-cords to join the left, and form the enlarged tube
(p), which, passing beneath the nerve-cord of its side, runs to the external orifice. The enlarged
terminal portion possesses thick muscular walls, and possibly constitutes a spermatophore maker,
as has been shown to be the case in P. N. Zealandiae, by Moseley. In some specimens a different
arrangement obtains, in that the left vas deferens passes under both nerve-cords to join the right.
Female.—The ovaries consist of a pair of tubes closely applied together, and continued
posteriorly into the oviducts. The oviducts, after a short course, become dilated into the uteruses,
which join behind and open to the exterior by a median opening. The ovaries always contain
spermatozoa, some of which project through the ovarian wall into the body cavity. Spermatozoa
are not found in the uterus and oviducts, and it appears probable that they reach the ovary directly
by boring through the skin and traversing the body cavity.[6] In the neotropical species there is a
globular receptaculum seminis opening by two short ducts close together into the oviduct, and
there is a small receptaculum ovorum with extremely thin walls opening into the oviduct by a short
duct just in front of the receptaculum seminis. The epithelium of the latter structure is clothed with
actively moving cilia. In the New Zealand species there is a receptaculum seminis with two ducts,
but the receptacula ovorum has not been seen.
There appear to be present in most, if not all, the legs some accessory glandular structures
opening just externally to the nephridia. They are called the crural glands.
DEVELOPMENT.
As stated at the outset, Peripatus is found in three of the great regions, viz. in Africa, in
Australasia, and in South America and the West Indies. It is a curious and remarkable fact that
although the species found in these various localities are really closely similar, the principal
differences relating to the structure of the female generative organs and to the number of the legs,
they do differ in the most striking manner in the structure of the ovum and in the early
development. In all the Australasian species the egg is large and heavily charged with food-yolk,
and is surrounded by a tough membrane. In the Cape species the eggs are smaller, though still of
considerable size; the yolk is much less developed, and the egg membrane is thinner though
dense. In the neotropical species the egg is minute and almost entirely devoid of yolk. The
unsegmented uterine ovum of P. Novae-Zealandiae measures 1.5 mm. in length by .8 mm. in
breadth; that of P. capensis is .56 mm. in length; and that of P. Trinidadensis .04 mm. in diameter.
In correspondence with these differences in the ovum there are differences in the early
development, though the later stages are closely similar.
Fig. 13.—A series of embryos of P. capensis. The hind end of embryos B, C, D is uppermost in the
figures, the primitive streak is the white patch behind the blastopore. (After Sedgwick.) A,
Gastrula stage, ventral view, showing blastopore. B, Older gastrula stage, ventral view,
showing elongated blastopore and primitive streak. C, Ventral view of embryo with three pairs
of mesoblastic somites, dumb-bell-shaped blastopore and primitive streak. D, Ventral view of
embryo, in which the blastopore has completely closed in its middle portion, and given rise to
two openings, the embryonic mouth and anus. The anterior pair of somites have moved to the
front end of the body, and the primitive groove has appeared on the primitive streak. E, Side
view of embryo, in which the hind end of the body has begun to elongate in a spiral manner,
and in which the appendages have begun. At, antenna; d, dorsal projection; p.s, preoral
somite. F, Ventral view of head of embryo intermediate between E and G. The cerebral
grooves are wide and shallow. The lips have appeared, and have extended behind the
openings of the salivary glands, but have not yet joined in the middle line. At, antennae; c.g,
cerebral groove; j, jaws; j.s, swelling at base of jaws; L, lips; M, mouth; or.p, oral papillae; o.s,
opening of salivary gland. G, Side view of older embryo with the full number of appendages, to
show the position in which the embryos lie in the uterus.
But unfortunately the development has only been fully worked out in one species, and to that
species—P. capensis—the following description refers. The ova are apparently fertilised in the
ovary, and they pass into the oviducts in April and May. In May the brood of the preceding year are
born, and the new ova, which have meanwhile undergone cleavage, pass into the uterus. There
are ten to twenty ova in each uterus. The segmentation is peculiar, and leads to the formation of a
solid gastrula, consisting of a cortex of ectoderm nuclei surrounding a central endodermal mass,
which consists of a much-vacuolated tissue with some irregularly-shaped nuclei. The endoderm
mass is exposed at one point—the blastopore (gastrula mouth). The central vacuoles of the
endoderm now unite and form the enteron of the embryo, and at the same time the embryo
elongates into a markedly oval form, and an opacity—the primitive streak—appears at the hind
end of the blastopore (Fig. 13, B). This elongation of the embryo is accompanied by an elongation
of the blastopore, which soon becomes dumb-bell shaped (Fig. 13, C). At the same time the
mesoblastic somites (embryonic segments of mesoderm) have made their appearance in pairs at
the hind end, and gradually travel forward on each side of the blastopore to the front end, where
the somites of the anterior pair soon meet in front of the blastopore (Fig. 13, D). Meanwhile the
narrow middle part of the blastopore has closed by a fusion of its lips, so that the blastopore is
represented by two openings, the future mouth and anus. A primitive groove makes its
appearance behind the blastopore (Fig. 13, D). At this stage the hind end of the body becomes
curved ventrally into a spiral (Fig. 13, E), and at the same time the appendages appear as hollow
processes of the body wall, a mesoblastic somite being prolonged into each of them. The first to
appear are the antennae, into which the praeoral somites are prolonged. The remainder appear
from before backwards in regular order, viz. jaw, oral papillae, legs 1-17. The full number of
somites and their appendages is not, however, completed until a later stage. The nervous system
is formed as an annular thickening of ectoderm passing in front of the mouth and behind the anus,
and lying on each side of the blastopore along the lines of the somites. The praeoral part of this
thickening, which gives rise to the cerebral ganglia, becomes pitted inwards on each side (Fig. 13,
F, c.g). These pits are eventually closed, and form the hollow ventral appendages of the supra-
pharyngeal ganglia of the adult (Fig. 9, d). The lips are formed as folds of the side wall of the body,
extending from the praeoral lobes to just behind the jaw (Fig. 13, F, L). They enclose the jaws (j)
mouth (M), and opening of the salivary glands (o.s), and so give rise to the buccal cavity. The
embryo has now lost its spiral curvature, and becomes completely doubled upon itself, the hind
end being in contact with the mouth (Fig. 13, G). It remains in this position until birth. The just-born
young are from 10-15 mm. in length and have green antennae, but the rest of the body is either
quite white or of a reddish colour. This red colour differs from the colour of the adult in being
soluble in spirit.
The mesoblastic somites are paired sacs formed from the anterior lateral portions of the primitive
streak (Fig. 13, C). As they are formed they become placed in pairs on each side of the
blastopore. The somites of the first pair eventually obtain a position entirely in front of the
blastopore (Fig. 13, D). They form the somites of the praeoral lobes. The full complement of
somites is acquired at about the stage of Fig. 13, E.
Fig. 14.—A series of diagrams of transverse sections through Peripatus embryos to show the
relations of the coelom at successive stages. (After Sedgwick.) A, Early stage: 1, gut; 2,
mesoblastic somite; no trace of the vascular space; endoderm and ectoderm in contact. B,
Endoderm has separated from the dorsal and ventral ectoderm. The somite is represented as
having divided on the left side into a dorsal and ventral portion: 1, gut; 2, somite; 3,
haemocoele. C, The haemocoele (3) has become divided up into a number of spaces, the
arrangement of which is unimportant. The dorsal part of each somite has travelled
dorsalwards, and now constitutes a small space (triangular in section) just dorsal to the gut.
The ventral portion (2′) has assumed a tubular character, and has acquired an external
opening. The internal vesicle is already indicated, and is shown in the diagram by the thinner
black line: 1, gut; 2′, nephridial part of coelom; 3, haemocoele; 3′, part of haemocoele which
will form the heart—the part of the haemocoele on each side of this will form the pericardium;
4, nerve-cord. D represents the conditions at the time of birth; numbers as in C, except 5,
slime glands. The coelom is represented as surrounded by a thick black line, except in the part
which forms the internal vesicle of the nephridium.
The relations of the somites is shown in Fig. 14, A, which represents a transverse section taken
between the mouth and anus of an embryo of the stage of Fig. 13, D. The history of these somites
is an exceedingly interesting one, and may be described shortly as follows:—They divide into two
parts—a ventral part, which extends into the appendage, and a dorsal part (Fig. 14, B). The
ventral part acquires an opening to the exterior just outside the nerve-cord, and becomes entirely
transformed into a nephridium (Fig. 14, D, 2′). The dorsal part shifts dorsalwards and diminishes
relatively in size (Fig. 14, C). Its fate differs in the different parts of the body. In the anterior
somites it dwindles and disappears, but in the posterior part it unites with the dorsal divisions of
contiguous somites of the same side, and forms a tube—the generative tube (Fig. 14, D, 2). The
last section of this tube retains its connexion with the ventral portion of the somite, and so acquires
an external opening, which is at first lateral, but soon shifts to the middle line, and fuses with its
fellow, to form the single generative opening. The praeoral somite develops the rudiment of a
nephridium, but eventually entirely disappears. The jaw somite also disappears; the oral papilla
somite forms ventrally the salivary glands, which are thus serially homologous with nephridia. The
perivisceral cavity of Peripatus is, as in all Arthropoda, a haemocoele. Its various divisions develop
as a series of spaces between the ectoderm and endoderm, and later in the mesoderm. The
mesoderm seems to be formed entirely from the proliferation of the cells of the mesoblastic
somites. It thus appears that in Peripatus the coelom does not develop a perivisceral portion, but
gives rise only to the renal and reproductive organs.
Synopsis of the Species of Peripatus.
Peripatus, Guilding.
Soft-bodied vermiform animals, with one pair of ringed antennae, one pair of jaws, one pair of oral papillae, and a
varying number of claw-bearing ambulatory legs. Dorsal surface arched and more darkly pigmented than the flat
ventral surface. Skin transversely ridged and beset by wart-like spiniferous papillae. Mouth anterior, ventral; anus
posterior, terminal. Generative opening single, median, ventral, and posterior. One pair of simple eyes. Brain large,
with two ventral hollow appendages; ventral cords widely divaricated, without distinct ganglia. Alimentary canal simple,
uncoiled. Segmentally arranged, paired nephridia are present. Body cavity is continuous with the vascular system,
and does not communicate with the paired nephridia. Heart tubular, with paired ostia. Respiration by means of
tracheae. Dioecious; males smaller and generally less numerous than females. Generative glands tubular, continuous
with the ducts. Viviparous. Young born fully developed. They shun the light, and live in damp places beneath stones,
leaves, and bark of rotten stumps. They eject when irritated a viscid fluid through openings at the apex of the oral
papillae.
Distribution: South Africa, New Zealand, and Australia, South America and the West Indies [and in Sumatra?].
South African Species.
With three spinous pads on the legs and two primary papillae on the anterior side of the foot, and one accessory tooth
on the outer blade of the jaw; with a white papilla on the ventral surface of the last fully developed leg of the male.
Genital opening subterminal, behind the last pair of fully-developed legs. The terminal unpaired portion of vas
deferens short. Ova of considerable size, but with only a small quantity of food-yolk. (Colour highly variable, number of
legs constant in same species (?).)
P. capensis (Grube).—South African Peripatus, with seventeen pairs of claw-bearing ambulatory legs. Locality, Table
Mountain.
P. Balfouri (Sedgwick).—South African Peripatus, with eighteen pairs of claw-bearing ambulatory legs, of which the
last pair is rudimentary. With white papillae on the dorsal surface. Locality, Table Mountain.
P. brevis (De Blainville).—South African Peripatus, with fourteen pairs of ambulatory legs. Locality, Table Mountain. (I
have not seen this species. Presumably it has the South African characters.)
P. Moseleyi (Wood Mason).—South African Peripatus, with twenty-one and twenty-two pairs of claw-bearing
ambulatory legs. Locality, near Williamstown, Cape Colony; and Natal.[7]
Doubtful Species.
(1) South African Peripatus, with twenty pairs of claw-bearing ambulatory legs (Sedgwick). Locality, Table Mountain.
(Also Peters, locality not stated.)
(2) South African Peripatus, with nineteen pairs of ambulatory legs (Trimen). Locality, Plettenberg Bay, Cape Colony.
(Also Peters, locality not stated.)
Australasian Species.
With fifteen pairs of claw-bearing ambulatory legs, with three spinous pads on the legs, and a primary papilla
projecting from the median dorsal portion of the feet. Genital opening between the legs of the last pair. Receptacula
seminis present. Unpaired portion of vas deferens long and complicated. Ova large and heavily charged with yolk.
(Colour variable, number of legs constant in same species (?).)
P. Novae Zealandiae (Hutton).—Australasian Peripatus, without an accessory tooth on the outer blade of the jaw,
and without a white papilla on the base of the last leg of the male. New Zealand.
P. Leuckarti (Saenger).—Australasian Peripatus, with an accessory tooth on the outer blade of the jaw, and a white
papilla on the base of the last leg of the male. Queensland.
Neotropical Species.
With four spinous pads on the legs, and the generative aperture between the legs of the penultimate pair. Dorsal white
line absent. Primary papillae divided into two portions. Inner blade of jaw with gap between the first minor tooth and
the rest. Oviducts provided with receptacula ovorum and seminis. Unpaired part of vas deferens very long and
complicated. Ova minute, without food-yolk. (Colour fairly constant, number of legs variable in same species (?).)
P. Edwardsii.[8]—Neotropical Peripatus from Caracas, with a variable number of ambulatory legs (twenty-nine to
thirty-four). Males with twenty-nine or thirty legs, and tubercles on a varying number of the posterior legs. The basal
part or the primary papilla is cylindrical.
P. Trinidadensis (n. sp.).—Neotropical Peripatus from Trinidad, with twenty-eight to thirty-one pairs of ambulatory
legs, and a large number of teeth on the inner blade of the jaw. The basal portion of the primary papillae is conical.
P. torquatus (Kennel).— Neotropical Peripatus from Trinidad, with forty-one to forty-two pairs of ambulatory legs.
With a transversely placed bright yellow band on the dorsal surface behind the head.
Doubtful Species.
The above are probably distinct species. Of the remainder we do not know enough to say whether they are distinct
species or not. The following is a list of these doubtful species, with localities and principal characters:—
P. juliformis (Guilding).—Neotropical Peripatus from St. Vincent, with thirty-three pairs of ambulatory legs.
P. Chiliensis (Gay).—Neotropical Peripatus from Chili, with nineteen pairs of ambulatory legs.
P. demeraranus (Sclater).—Neotropical Peripatus from Maccasseema, Demerara, with twenty-seven to thirty-one

pairs of ambulatory legs and conical primary papillae.
Peripatus from Cayenne (Audouin and Milne-Edwards).—With thirty pairs of legs. Named P. Edwardsii by
Blanchard.
Peripatus from Valentia Lake, Columbia (Wiegmann).—With thirty pairs of legs.
Peripatus from St. Thomas (Moritz).—No description.
Peripatus from Colonia Towar, Venezuela (Grube).—With twenty-nine to thirty-one pairs of ambulatory legs.
Named P. Edwardsii by Grube.
Peripatus from Santo Domingo, Nicaragua (Belt).—With thirty-one pairs of ambulatory legs.
Peripatus from Dominica (Angas).—Neotropical Peripatus, with twenty-six to thirty (Pollard) pairs of ambulatory
legs.
Peripatus from Jamaica (Gosse).—With thirty-one and thirty-seven pairs of ambulatory legs.
Peripatus from Santaram.—Neotropical Peripatus, with thirty-one pairs of ambulatory legs.
Peripatus from Cuba.—No details.
Peripatus from Hoorubea Creek, Demerara (Quelch).—With thirty pairs of legs.
Peripatus from Marajo (Branner).—No details.

Peripatus from Utuado, Porto Rico (Peters).—With twenty-seven, thirty, thirty-one, and thirty-two pairs of legs.
Peripatus from Surinam (Peters).—No details.
Peripatus from Puerto Cabello, Venezuela (Peters).—With thirty and thirty-two pairs of legs.
Peripatus from Laguayra, Venezuela (Peters).—No details.
Peripatus Quitensis (Schmarda).—From Quito, with thirty-six pairs of legs.
Peripatus from Sumatra (?).
P. Sumatranus (Horst).—Peripatus from Sumatra, with twenty-four pairs of ambulatory legs, and four spinous pads
on the legs. The primary papillae of the neotropical character with conical bases. Generative opening between the
legs of the penultimate pair. Feet with only two papillae.[9]
Summary of Distribution
Distribution of the South African Species—
Slopes of Table Mountain, neighbourhood of Williamstown, Plettenberg Bay—Cape Colony—Natal.
Distribution of the Australasian Species—
Queensland—Australia.
North and South Islands—New Zealand.
Oriental Region (?)—
Sumatra.
Distribution of the Neotropical Species—
Nicaragua.
Valencia Lake, Caracas, Puerto Cabello, Laguayra, Colonia Towar—Venezuela.
Quito—Ecuador.
Maccasseema, Hoorubea Creek—Demerara.
Surinam (Peters).
Cayenne.
Santarem, Marajo, at the mouth of the Amazon—Brazil.
Chili.
And in the following West Indian Islands—Cuba, Dominica, Porto Rico (Peters), Jamaica, St. Thomas, St. Vincent,
Trinidad.
MYRIAPODA
BY
F. G. SINCLAIR, M.A.
(FORMERLY F. G. HEATHCOTE)
Trinity College, Cambridge.
CHAPTER II
MYRIAPODA
INTRODUCTION–HABITS–CLASSIFICATION–STRUCTURE–CHILOGNATHA–CHILOPODA–SCHIZOTARSIA–
SYMPHYLA–PAUROPODA–EMBRYOLOGY–PALAEONTOLOGY.
Tracheata with separated head and numerous, fairly similar segments. They have one pair of
antennae, two or three pairs of mouth appendages, and numerous pairs of legs.
The Myriapoda are a class of animals which are widely distributed, and are represented in almost
every part of the globe. Heat and cold alike seem to offer favourable conditions for their existence,
and they flourish both in the most fertile and the most barren countries.
They have not attracted much notice until comparatively recent times. Compared with Insects they
have been but little known. The reason of this is not hard to find. The Myriapods do not exercise
so much direct influence on human affairs as do some other classes of animals; for instance,
Insects. They include no species which is of direct use to man, like the silkworm or the cochineal
insect, and they are of no use to him as food. It is true that they are injurious to his crops. For
instance, the species of Millepede known as the "wire worm"[10] is extremely harmful; but this has
only attracted much notice in modern times, when land is of more value than formerly, and
agriculture is pursued in a more scientific manner, and the constant endeavour to get the utmost
amount of crop from the soil has caused a minute investigation into the various species of animals
which are noxious to the growing crop. The species of Myriapoda best known to the ancients were
those which were harmful to man on account of their poisonous bite.
Some writers have supposed that the word which is translated "mole" in the Bible (Lev. xi. 30) is
really Scolopendra (a genus of Centipede), and, if this is so, it is the earliest mention of the
Myriapods. They were rarely noticed in the classical times; almost the only mention of them is by
Ælian, who says that the whole population of a town called Rhetium were driven out by a swarm of
Scolopendras. Pliny tells us of a marine Scolopendra, but this was most probably a species of
marine worm.
Linnaeus included Myriapods among the Insects; and the writers after him till the beginning of this
century classed them with all sorts of Insects, with Spiders, Scorpions, and even among Serpents.
It was Leach who first raised them to the importance of a separate class, and Latreille first gave
them the name of Myriapoda, which they have retained ever since.
Myriapods are terrestrial animals, crawling or creeping on the ground or on logs of wood, or even
under the bark of trees. There is, however, a partial exception to this; various naturalists have from
time to time given descriptions of marine Centipedes. These are not found in the sea, but crawl
about on the shore, where they are submerged by each tide. Professor F. Plateau has given an
account of the two species of Myriapods that are found thus living a semi-aquatic life. They are
named Geophilus maritimus and Geophilus submarinus, and Plateau found that they could exist in
sea water from twelve to seventy hours, and in fresh water from six to ten days. They thus offer a
striking example of the power that their class possess of existing under unfavourable
circumstances.
With regard to their habits the different species differ very considerably. On the one hand we have
the Chilopoda, or Centipedes, as they are called in this country, active, swift, and ferocious; living
for the most part in dark and obscure places, beneath stones, logs of wood, and dried leaves, etc.,
and feeding on living animals. On the other hand, we have the Chilognatha, or Millepedes,
distinguished by their slow movements and vegetable diet; inoffensive to man, except by the
destruction they occasion to his crops, and having as a means of defence no formidable weapon
like the large poison claws of the Centipedes, but only a peculiarly offensive liquid secreted by
special glands known by the unpleasant though expressive name of "stink glands," or by the more
euphonious Latin name of glandulae odoriferae.
As a general rule the larger species of Myriapods are found in the hotter climates, some of the
tropical species being very large, and some, among the family of the Scolopendridae, extremely
poisonous; and it is even said that their bite is fatal to man.
Fig. 15.—Scolopendra obscura. (From C. L. Koch, Die Myriapoden.)
If, however, the Centipede is sometimes fatal to man, it does not always have it its own way, for
we read of man making food of Centipedes. It is hard to believe that any human being could under
any circumstances eat Centipedes, which have been described by one naturalist as "a disgusting
tribe loving the darkness." Nevertheless, Humboldt informs us that he has seen the Indian children
drag out of the earth Centipedes eighteen inches long and more than half an inch wide and devour
them.
Fig. 16.—Chordeuma sylvestre. (From C. L. Koch, Die Myriapoden.)
This, I believe, is the only account of human beings using the Myriapoda as food, if we except the
accounts of the religious fanatics among the African Arabs, who are said to devour Centipedes
alive; though this is not a case of eating for pleasure, for the Scolopendras are devoured in
company with leaves of the prickly pear, broken glass, etc., as a test of the unpleasant things
which may be eaten under the influence of religious excitement.
A cold climate, however, is not fatal to some fairly large species of Centipedes. A striking instance
of this came under my own observation some years ago. In 1886 I was travelling in the island of
Cyprus—the "Enchanted Island," as Mr. Mallock calls it in his book written about the same time—
with the intention of observing its natural history. This island consists of a broad flat country
crossed by two mountain ranges of considerable height, thus offering the contrast of a hot climate
in the plains and a cold climate in the mountains. On the plain country I found among the
Myriapoda that the most common species were a large Scolopendra and a large Lithobius. The
Scolopendra was fairly common, living for the most part under large stones, and it was a pleasant
task to search for them in a ruined garden near Larnaca.
This garden was made for the public, and is situated about a quarter of a mile from the old town of
Larnaca. It has been suffered to fall into decay, and is now quite neglected. Mr. Mallock has
described many beautiful scenes in his book, but I think he could have found few more beautiful
than this old garden with its deserted gardener's house, now a heap of ruins, but overgrown with
masses of luxuriant vegetation, with beautiful flowers peeping out here and there as if charitably
endeavouring to hide the negligence of man, and to turn the desolation into a scene of beauty. I
got several prizes in this garden, but found the Myriapods were principally represented by the
species I have mentioned.
After leaving Larnaca I rode across the plain country through blazing heat, which was rapidly
parching up the ground to a uniform brown colour. At every stopping-place I found the same
species of Scolopendra and of Lithobius. After a few days I began to get up among the mountains
of the northern range, and the burning heat of the treeless plain was gradually exchanged for the
cool shade of the pine-trees and the fresh air of the mountains. As I ascended higher and higher
the temperature grew cooler till I reached the top of Mount Troodos, the ancient Olympus. Here in
the month of May the snow still lingered in white patches, and the air was clear and cold. I
remained on the top of Troodos for a week, while I made a close examination of the fauna to be
found there. I was much surprised to find the identical species of Scolopendra and Lithobius with
which I had become acquainted in the heat of the low country, quite at home among the snow, and
as common as in, what I should have imagined to be, the more congenial climate. Nor were they
any the less lively. Far from exhibiting any sort of torpor from the cold, the first one which I
triumphantly seized in my forceps wriggled himself loose and fastened on my finger with a vigour
which made me as anxious to get rid of him as I had formerly been to secure him. However, he
eventually went into my collecting box.
On the whole, we may say that the Chilopoda are most largely represented in the hotter climates,
where they find a more abundant diet in the rich insect life of the tropical and semi-tropical
countries. The more brightly-coloured Myriapods, too, are for the most part inhabitants of the
warmer countries. The ease with which they are introduced into a country in the earth round
plants, and in boxes of fruit, may account to a great extent for the wide distribution of the various
species in different countries. Mr. Pocock, who examined the Myriapods brought back from the
"Challenger" Expedition, informs us that of ten species brought from Bermuda, four had been
introduced from the West Indies. There is no doubt that animals which can bear changes of
temperature and deprivation of food, and even a short immersion in the water, are well calculated
to be introduced into strange countries in many unexpected ways.
As might be expected from a class of animals so widely distributed, Myriapods show an almost
infinite variety of size and colour. We find them so small that we can hardly see them with the
naked eye, as in the case of the tiny Polyxenus, the Pauropidae, and the Scolopendrellidae. We
also find them more than six inches in length, as the larger species of Scolopendridae. I am afraid
we must dismiss as an exaggeration an account of Centipedes in Carthagena a yard in length,
and more than six inches in breadth. The giver of this account—Ulloa—informs us that the bite of
this gigantic serpent-like creature is mortal if a timely remedy be not applied. It is certainly
extremely probable that the bite of a Centipede of this size would be fatal to any one. Some
Centipedes are short and broad, and composed of few segments, as Glomeris; some are long and
thin, with more than a hundred segments, as Geophilus. They may be beautifully coloured with
brilliant streaks of colour, as in some of the Julidae or Polydesmidae, or may be of a dull and rusty
iron colour, or quite black.
One of the strangest peculiarities found among Myriapods is that some of them (e.g. Geophilus
electricus) are phosphorescent. As I was walking one summer evening near my home in
Cambridgeshire I saw what I thought was a match burning. Looking more closely, I saw it move,
and thinking it was a glow-worm I picked it up, and was surprised to find that it was a Geophilus
shining with a brilliant phosphorescent light. I let it crawl over my hand, and it left a bright trail of
light behind it, which lasted some time. I have been told that this species is common in Epping
Forest; also in Cambridgeshire.[11]
Besides G. electricus, G. phosphoreus has been described as a luminous species by Linnaeus, on

the authority of a Swedish sea captain, who asserted that it dropped from the air, shining like a
glow-worm, upon his ship when he was sailing in the Indian Ocean a hundred miles from land.
What the use of this phosphorescence may be is not known with any degree of certainty. It may be
either a defence against enemies, or else a means of attracting the two sexes to one another.
The places which the Myriapods select for their habitation vary as much as their colour and size,
though, with a few exceptions, they chose dark and obscure places. A curious species of
Myriapod is Pseudotremia cavernarum (Cope), which is found in certain caves in America. The
peculiar life it leads in these caves seems to have a great influence on its colour, and also affects
the development of its eyes. Mr. Packard's account of them is worth quoting: "Four specimens
which I collected in Little Wyandotte cave were exactly the same size as those from Great
Wyandotte cave. They were white tinged, dusky on the head and fore part of the body. The eyes
are black and the eye-patch of the same size and shape, while the antennae are the same.
"Six specimens from Bradford cave, Ind. (which is a small grotto formed by a vertical fissure in the
rock, and only 300 to 400 yards deep), showed more variation than those from the two Wyandotte
caves. They are of the same size and form, but slightly longer and a little slenderer.... The
antennae are much whiter than in those from the Wyandotte caves, and the head and body are
paler, more bleached out than most of the Wyandotte specimens.... It thus appears that the body
is most bleached and the eyes the most rudimentary in the Bradford cave, the smallest and most
accessible, and in which consequently there is the most variation in surroundings, temperature,
access of light and changed condition of air. Under such circumstances as these we should
naturally expect the most variation."[12]
A strong contrast to these animals is afforded us by the Scutigeridae (Schizotarsia). They are
unknown in this country, but abound in some of the Mediterranean countries and in parts of Africa.
They remind one strongly of spiders, with their long legs and their peculiar way of running on
stones and about the walls of houses.
Fig. 17.—Cermatia (Scutigera) variegata. (From C. L. Koch, Die
Myriapoden.)
Some years ago I was in Malta, and I used to go and watch them on
the slopes outside Valetta, where they were to be found in great
numbers. They used to come out from beneath great stones and run
about rapidly on the ground or on the stones and rubbish with which
the ground was covered, now and again making a dart at some small
insect which tempted them, and seemingly not minding the blazing
sun at all. As might be expected from their habits, their eyes, far from
being rudimentary, like those of the cave-living Pseudotremia, or
absent like those of the Polydesmidae, or of our own Cryptops, are
highly developed, and form the only example among the Myriapods
of what are known as facetted eyes. The Scutigeridae are also
remarkable among Myriapods for the possession of a peculiar
sense-organ which is found in no other Myriapod.
The Myriapods most numerous in our own country are Lithobius and
Julus. Lithobius, which will be described later on, may be found in
almost any garden under dried leaves, stones, etc. Julus, the
common wire-worm, is found crawling on plants and leaves and
under the bark of trees, and does a good deal of damage in a
garden. Polydesmus is also frequently found in great numbers, and
usually a great many of them together. Glomeris is also found,
though it is not so common as the first two mentioned animals.
Geophilus is also common, and especially in the south of England.
Scolopendridae are only represented by a single genus, Cryptops,
which is not very common, though by no means rare. The best place
to find them is in manure heaps. The animals of this species are
small compared to most Scolopendras, and have the peculiarity of
being without any eyes.
Scutigera is unrepresented in this country. One was found in

Scotland some years ago by Mr. Gibson Carmichael, but was shown
to have been imported, and not bred in the place.
The means of defence possessed by these animals also differ very

much in the different species of Myriapods. In the Centipedes the
animals are provided with a powerful weapon in the great poison
claws which lie just beneath the mouth, and which are provided with
large poison glands, which supply a fluid which runs through a canal
in the hard substance of the claw and passes into the wound made
by the latter. The effect of this fluid is instantaneous on the small
animals which form the food of the Centipedes. I have myself
watched Lithobius in this country creep up to a blue-bottle fly and
seize it between the poison claws. One powerful nip and the blue-
bottle was dead, as if struck by lightning. I have also seen them kill
worms and also other Lithobius in the same way. When another
Lithobius is wounded by the poison claws it seems to be paralysed
behind the wound. The Millepedes, on the other hand, have no such
offensive and defensive weapon. They rely for protection on the fluid
secreted by the stigmata repugnatoria (or glandulae odoriferae)
mentioned before. This fluid has been shown to contain prussic acid,
and has a very unpleasant odour.
Fig. 18.—Polyxenus lagurus (From C. L. Koch, Die Myriapoden).
Most of the Millepedes are provided with these glands; but in the
cave Myriapods mentioned before, the animals have not to contend
against so many adversaries, and these glands almost disappear.
Other Myriapods defend themselves by means of the long and stiff
bristles with which they are provided, e.g. the little Polyxenus. This
means of defence seems to have been more common among the
fossil Myriapods than among those still living. Variations in the shape
and size of the limbs are numerous, as might be expected in so large
a class of animals. One of the most curious of such variations is
found in a Centipede of the Scolopendra tribe, called Eucorybas, in
which the last limbs are flattened out and provided with paddle-
shaped lobes. The use of these is unknown, but it is probable that
they are concerned in some way with the breeding habits of the
animal. The habits of the Myriapods connected with their breeding
are most interesting, but have been very insufficiently investigated.
There is no doubt that a full inquiry into all such habits would be of
great interest, and would help to answer some of the problems which
are still unsolved in these forms. My own observations refer to two
forms—Julus terrestris among the Millepedes, and Lithobius
forficatus among the Centipedes. Julus terrestris is one of the most
common of the English Millepedes, and can be easily obtained. I
kept them in large shallow glass vessels with a layer of earth at the
bottom, and thus was able easily to watch the whole process. They
breed in the months of May, June, and July. The female Julus when
about to lay her eggs sets to work to form a kind of nest or
receptacle for her eggs. She burrows down into the earth, and at
some distance below the surface begins the work. She moistens
small bits of earth with the sticky fluid secreted by her salivary
glands, which become extraordinarily active in the spring. She works
up these bits of earth with her jaws and front legs till they are of a
convenient size and shape, and places them together. When
complete, the nest is shaped like a hollow sphere, the inside being
smooth and even, while the outside is rough and shows the shape of
the small knobs of earth of which it is composed. She leaves a small
opening in the top. The size of the whole nest is about that of a small
nut. When she is ready to lay her eggs she passes them through the
hole in the top, and usually lays about 60 to 100 eggs at a time. The
eggs, which are very small, are coated with a glutinous fluid which
causes them to adhere together. When they are all laid she closes
up the aperture with a piece of earth moistened with her saliva; and
having thus hermetically sealed the nest, she leaves the whole to its
fate. The eggs hatch in about twelve days.
A naturalist named Verloef has lately found that the males of some
Julidae undergo certain changes in the form of the legs and other
organs in autumn and spring. These changes are probably
connected with the breeding of the animal, and remind us of the
changes undergone during the breeding season by salmon among
the fishes.
Julus breed very readily if carefully attended to and well supplied

with food. If they cannot obtain the food they like they will not breed
so well. I found that sliced apples with leaves and grass formed the
best food for them.
The process in the case of Lithobius is much harder to watch.

Lithobius is not so plentiful as Julus terrestris, and the animals are
more impatient of captivity, more shy in their habits, and do not
breed so readily.
In January 1889 I was given the use of a room in the New Museums
at Cambridge, and was allowed to fit it up as I liked, so that I was
able to try the effect of different degrees of light and darkness, and of
different degrees of warmth. I succeeded in observing the whole
process. The female Lithobius is furnished with two small movable
hooks at the end of the under surface of the body close to the
opening of the oviduct. These small hooks have been observed by
many naturalists, but their use has, so far as I know, never been
described before. They play an important part in the proceedings
following the laying of the egg. The time of breeding in Lithobius is
rather later than in Julus, and begins about June and continues till
August. There are first of all some convulsive movements of the last
segments of the body, and then in about ten minutes the egg
appears at the entrance of the oviduct. The egg is a small sphere
(about the size of a number five shot), rather larger than that of
Julus, and is covered with a sticky slime secreted by the large glands
inside the body, usually called the accessory glands. When the egg
falls out it is received by the little hooks, and is firmly clasped by
them. This is the critical moment in the existence of the Lithobius into
which the egg is destined to develop. If a male Lithobius sees the
egg he makes a rush at the female, seizes the egg, and at once
devours it. All the subsequent proceedings of the female seem to be
directed to the frustration of this act of cannibalism. As soon as the
egg is firmly clasped in the little hooks she rushes off to a convenient
place away from the male, and uses her hooks to roll the egg round
and round until it is completely covered by earth, which sticks to it
owing to the viscous material with which it is coated; she also
employs her hind legs, which have glands on the thighs, to effect her
purpose. When the operation is complete the egg resembles a small
round ball of mud, and is indistinguishable from the surrounding soil.
It is thus safe from the voracious appetite of the male, and she
leaves it to its fate. The number of eggs laid is small when compared
with the number laid by Julus.
The food in the case of Lithobius consisted of worms and blue-

bottles, which were put alive into the glass vessel containing the
Lithobius. I tried raw meat chopped up, but they did not thrive on it in
the same way that they did on the living animals. I also put into their
vessel bits of rotten wood containing larvae of insects, etc.
I have succeeded in bringing back some specimens of Polydesmus

alive from Madeira, and in getting them to breed in this country—of
course in artificial warmth—and their way of laying eggs and making
a nest resembles that of Julus. Geophilus has one curious habit in
connexion with the fertilisation of the female. The male spins a web
and deposits in the middle of it a single spermatophore, and the
female comes to the web to be fertilised. The Scolopendridae are
said to bring forth their young alive, but I think the evidence for this is
unsatisfactory. What have been taken for the young Scolopendrae
are perhaps the large spermatophores of the male, which are not
unlike a larval Myriapod in size and shape. I have never been able to
observe the process of breeding in this family. I have had the
spermatophores sent me from Gibraltar as "eggs," but a little
examination soon showed me their real character.
The mode of progression in the Myriapods differs considerably, as
might be expected in a class in which the number of legs varies to
such an extent. The swiftest among them are the Scutigeridae with
their long spider-like legs. The Scolopendridae are also able to move
with considerable rapidity, and are also able to move tail forward
almost as well as in the ordinary manner. Where there are such a
number of legs it becomes a curious question as to the order in
which the animal moves them; and though several people have
endeavoured to find this out, the number of legs to be moved and
the rapid movements have rendered accurate observation
impossible.
Some years ago Professor E. Ray Lankester tried to study the order
in which the legs of Centipedes moved, and came to the conclusion
(recorded in an amusing letter in Nature, 23rd May 1889) that if the
animal had to study the question itself, it would not get on at all. He
finishes his letter with the following verses:—
A Centipede was happy quite

Until a toad in fun
Said, "Pray which leg moves after which?"
This raised her doubts to such a pitch,
She fell exhausted in the ditch,
Not knowing how to run.
The progression of Millepedes is much slower than that of the

Centipedes, and it is remarkable that when the animal is in motion a
sort of wave runs down the long fringe-like row of feet. I have
endeavoured to make out this motion, but have never been able to
understand it satisfactorily. My belief was that the feet were moved in
sets of five.
This wave-like peculiarity of motion is described in a curious old

book, An Essay towards a Natural History of Serpents. Charles
Owen, D.D. London, 1742: "The Ambua, so the natives of Brazil call
the Millepedes and the Centipedes, are serpents. Those reptiles of
thousand legs bend as they crawl along, and are reckoned very
poisonous. In these Multipedes the mechanism of the body is very
curious; in their going it is observable that on each side of their
bodies every leg has its motion, one regularly after another, so that
their legs, being numerous, form a kind of undulation, and thereby
communicate to the body a swifter progression than one could
imagine where so many short feet are to take so many short steps,
that follow one another rolling on like the waves of the sea."
Before proceeding to the classification of Myriapods, which will form

the next part of this account, a few words on the common names for
them may not be without interest.
In English we have the names Centipede and Millepede, and the

Continental nations have similar names implying the possession of a
hundred or a thousand legs, as the German "Tausendfüsse" and the
French "Millepieds." Of course these are general words, simply
implying the possession of a great number of legs. But we have also
among the peasantry a name for Centipedes which conveys a much
more accurate idea of the number. The people of the eastern
counties (I daresay the term is more widely spread) call them "forty
legs." This is not quite accurate, but as Lithobius has 17 legs on
each side, and Scolopendra (Cryptops is the English species) has 21
on each side, it is a better approximation than Centipede. But
another country has a still more accurate term. I found some
Scolopendra in Beyrout, and asked my native servant what he called
them. He gave them what I afterwards found was the common Arab
name for them, "‘arba wál ‘arbarin," forty-four legs. Now the
Scolopendras, which in hotter climates are the chief representatives
of the Centipedes, have actually forty-two legs, or, if the poison
claws are counted, forty-four. In looking up the Arab term for
Centipede I came across a curious description given of them by
Avicenna, the great Arabian physician: "This is an animal known for
its habit of going into ears. For the most part it is a palm's length"
[about four inches, which is the average length of many species].

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Economics and Ageing : Volume III:

Long-term Care and Finance José Luis

Coulson and Richardson’s Chemical Engineering, Fourth

Actuarial Aspects of Long Term Care Etienne Dupourqué

Long Term Forensic Psychiatric Care Clinical Ethical

Mosby's Textbook for Long-Term Care Nursing Assistants

Long Term Evolution 3GPP LTE Radio and Cellular

Long Term Systemic Therapy : Individuals, Couples and

Civilisation and Informalisation: Connecting Long-Term

Cultural Landscapes and Long-Term Human Ecology 1st

Economics and Ageing

ISBN 978-3-030-29018-4 ISBN 978-3-030-29019-1 (eBook)

Cover illustration: © Darren Nakata / EyeEm

Part I Labour Economics and Ageing 1

1 The Older Labour Force 3

1.7 Voluntary Work 54

2 Chronological Age and Labour Productivity 127

2.4.2 Ageing Workforces, Automation, and Artificial

3 Age Discrimination and Stereotypes 199

Part II Economics of Pensions 229

4 Pensions and Pension Schemes 231

4.8 Earnings Measure, Valorisation, and Indexation 245

5 Macroeconomic Aspects 283

6 Distributive and Actuarial Elements 323

7 Pensions and Risk 365

7.2.3 Political Risk 375

Part III Ageing and Macroeconomics 395

8 Ageing and Economic Growth and Development 397

9 Other Macroeconomic Implications of Population Ageing 529

9.3 Ageing, Exchange Rates, and International Trade 555

Glossary: Volume III 589

Fig. 5.1 Old-age dependency ratio and public expenditure on pensions,

Table 1.1 Classification of older workers according to age, paid

1.1 Scope of Labour Economics with Regard

© The Author(s) 2020 3

the behavior of employers and employees in response to the general incentives of

Ehrenberg and Smith brings non-pecuniary elements to the fore, which

1.1.1 Alternative Conceptualisations of Work

As we will see below, most economic models of household consumption and

As the opposite to leisure, and therefore considering it as a direct source of

All these disparate and sometimes conflicting conceptualisations are present

In tension with lifestyle and consumption, work is a defining element of

1.1.2 The Three Analytical Perspectives

In Volume I, Chap. 4, I mentioned that social gerontology adopts three

far from being watertight compartments, there is much inter-relationship

1.1.3 Definition of Older Worker

By thinking of older non-workers as long-term unemployed rather than as early

1.2 Labour Demand

where q denotes output.

1.3 Labour Supply

To simplify the exposition, let’s assume there is only one consumption

where C is consumption and w denotes the hourly wage.

U = U (C, l) = U (C, h) (1.6)

The first-order conditions for a maximum are:

∂P r(h > 0) w ∂P r(w > w∗ ) w

The parameter εP is always positive: an increase in wages above the

This elasticity parameter can be positive or negative. As with any elasticity,

where hc reflects the compensation.

1.4 Economic Activity

The Tracheal System.

The Muscular System.

The Vascular System.

The Body Cavity.